


forbidden fruit

by circumstances



Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Anger, Beautiful, Berries, Catching Fire, Death, District 12, Hunger Games, Love, Memory, Mentions of Suicide, Mockingjay, Multi, The Capitol, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-28
Updated: 2014-11-28
Packaged: 2018-02-27 07:35:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2684579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/circumstances/pseuds/circumstances
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>maybe, she was supposed to win. so that was it, basically: life, or the berries. those god damn berries.</p>
            </blockquote>





	forbidden fruit

**Author's Note:**

> written for the 50 themed challenge. first prompt was forbidden fruit.

the berries glistened in boy from 12's dim grey jacket. the sun clipped the right side of the berries, peering through the centre of the berry. the juices inside looked fresh and ready, and the gaps in the trees allowed her to see a mess forming on the boy's hand. she chewed on her lip as she watched the boy wipe them with much speed against his pitch black pants. 

peeta disappeared behind a round trunk, leaving the berries sheltered by the opening on a rock. the moss seemed to take the weight well, not flattening under the extra pressure.   
capitol made, she reminded her self. capitol made. 

she new it was nightlock. they screamed nightlock. her father had told her once. she remembered that day. "pa, how did that boy commit suicide?" "why were his hands blue?" the   
capitol killed a boy her age in her district once. they put it on the televisions, blurring out his face as he gulped down the berries. 

"nightlock, love. kill you in a minute." despite his best wishes, he pointed to the screen: it was, after all, mandatory viewing (he supposed). she remembered her younger self counting down from 60, waiting to see if her father was right. 

4, 3. the boy with grey eyes – she'd seen them once before – swallowed the last berry. 2. through the mild low quality image, she could see his eyes closing. his shoulders hunched over onto the golden table before him, his head hitting the side. blood seeped out, spludging onto the table. she'd screamed, whispering a quiet "one." 

her father's words swirled through her head. should she? should she? eat the berries. she knew in her heart that she could win. but to stay hidden long enough to outlast cato and the dark skin from 11? she was hardly confident. 

she didn't want to risk cato winning either. she'd seen the girl on fire blow up their food. she'd laughed at their failed attempts to find anything left, and smirked when she ate the crackers she stole. she trusted the pair from 12 to win. it's not like she wanted a victor's life anyway: they were, at the end of the day, slaves. of a worse kind, for they were the face of the districts. 

"nightlock," the whispered so inaudibly quiet, she wasn't even sure that she'd said it at all. "win it for me," she murmured.   
she scrambled from her place behind the boulder, tip toeing so she wouldn't disturb lover boy's hunting. carefully, she scooped up three berries. one at a time, she plopped them into her mouth, mimicking the boy almost to perfection. 

as her world of a near sixteen years wizzed through her mind, the berrie's juices raced through her veins. "coming to the tree," she almost squeaked when her fists hit the ground.   
and then, there was nothing.


End file.
